


Surf's up (and so am I)

by telemachus



Series: Waves of Glory [9]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Get together fic, M/M, legolas can surf, stupid bets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-25
Updated: 2014-04-25
Packaged: 2018-01-20 18:14:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1520582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telemachus/pseuds/telemachus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elves are natural surfers, dwarves - are not. Don't make bets you aren't prepared to win.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surf's up (and so am I)

**Author's Note:**

> First attempt at a modern AU - please don't flame!  
> (Title from a song by Meatloaf).

“They’re bloody looking again, Las,” she says, as we float, waiting for the next wave. I know, without turning, I know who she means. There’s been a group – not just lads, girls with them, but – two of them don’t seem to have girls, and they’ve been watching all week. 

Sadly, I suspect they are both watching her.

“Fuck,” I say, casually, “as in, are we pretending we are, Tau? See them off for you? They don’t look much hassle, shouldn’t need to go too far.” And besides, it wouldn’t be the first time. I can’t remember the first time we realised the easiest way to stop hassle – from boys who wanted her, from queer-bashers who didn’t like the look of me. Fuck, we’re so good at the show now, even Ada has started asking if there’ll be wedding bells soon.

But – she blushes.

“No, I – I think its only the tall dark one looking at me, and – I like him. Ginger – he’s only got eyes for your arse.”

I wish. But – she’s sweet like that. Always knows what I want to hear. 

Anyway, I raise my brow,  
“Tall?”

She sighs, “Tall-er.”

And – well – maybe.

But – oh I wish Ginger (and how I love that she uses the name without a thought) how I wish he was looking at me. They aren’t the only ones who’ve been looking all week. He – he is – oh everything I dream of at night, everything I think of when I’m alone with only my hand for company – everything I never find. Strong. Serious – but – but I’ve seen him laugh. Toned. Eru, but he’s got muscles. Broad. Beard. Oh fuck, Legolas, stop thinking about him, you’re wearing a wetsuit. Water’s not that cold.

He’s not. He’s in those board shorts again. Shame.

I like the jeans he wears in the evening, when they’re drinking. Tight. Don’t leave much to the imagination.

Broad there, too. Where it matters.

Stop it, Legolas. Waves’re picking up again. Concentrate.

No-one pulls when they look crap.

Fuck it, gay boys don’t pull straight boys who are on holiday with their mates. Only in fiction. Only in porn.

Keep dreaming.

 

And so when we leave the water, finally, I am resigned. I don’t even look at them. I’m too busy laughing with Tau, with the others we’ve been competing with. Forgetting, I sling my arm round her shoulder, pulling her suit down, as I always do when its sunny, as she normally does to me – but – this time, she moves away, doesn’t want help. And I see she meant it. She likes this one. 

Oh.

For some reason, its easier to balance your board and do someone else’s suit than your own. Don’t know why, it just is. So – if she’s not helping – I guess I’ll just have to wait until I can put the board down. Don’t really want Hal’s hands there. Not anymore.

That was over years ago. Been a lot of other hands since then.

Not with Ginger maybe watching.

Fuck, he is.

Watching someone.

Could it be?

Oh please.

Please, Eru, please.

As we pass them, Tau gives me that wink, and we almost dissolve into giggles, but – and I’m actually quite proud of this – we don’t. Instead, we keep walking. Heads up, hair swishing, well, it would be if it wasn’t so wet, best posture.

Look at us.

Want us.

And, when we find our things, when we put the boards down, and I can pull my suit to my waist and neck some coke – I can’t help but look back, and – yes – they’re looking.

Fuck. 

Maybe.

“Friday night, Las,” she says, “all to play for. Bar tonight. Skinny jeans for the both of us.”

And as I grin at her, I think – fuck, I love you, Tau.

 

So, yes, we’re drinking, we’ve been dancing, they’re looking, but – nothing. 

Its like – there’s their group, there’s our group. They’re drinking pints, they’re sitting, they’re eating chips, they’re laughing, they’re talking. We’re drinking wine, we’re standing, dancing, flicking our hair – all of us, not just Tau and I, we’re laughing, we’re talking.

They’re looking.

We’re looking.

Fuck this, I think, there has to be a way to break in. Because – yes – Ginger is looking at me. I know he is. I can feel his eyes on me. 

Tau, bless her, nudges me, and I see they – the two we like – they’re at the bar. But – its busy. Friday night, remember. Worth a try. 

We walk over, and I wonder if she has a line planned. She does.  
“You guys never go in the water?” she asks, “Just watch?”

Her dark-haired one kind of blushes – cute, I think – and shrugs. Ginger, oh Ginger, he looks at me, and says,  
“Don’t see the point really. Kids thing. Like bloody skateboards.”

Oh, they’ve walked into this. Tau smiles, like something that lives in a jungle smiles when it hears sheep baaing,  
“Kids thing? You could do it if you tried? You two?”

She puts just the right tone into her voice, disbelief, scorn, and we both raise our brows.

“Fucking could,” Ginger is angry. Eru, but he’s more gorgeous than ever.

“Alright then,” she says, still looking at dark-hair, “try. Tomorrow. We’ll hire you boards, suits, you try it. We’ll teach you. If you catch one wave – properly – standing – all day – I – I’ll buy you dinner. If not – you pay.”

He licks his lips, he’s not stupid, I realise, but,  
“You’re on,” he says, and turns to Ginger, “yes, Gim?” 

Ginger looks at me,  
“You gonna buy me dinner, elf?” he asks, but some kind of madness seizes me, and 

“No,” I say, licking my lips, slowly, “I’ll up the stakes. Blow job. Loser kneels.”

He recoils, and I think I’ve played it wrong, but – I haven’t reckoned with his mates. They’ve come over, listening in, and,  
“Think you’ll lose, Gim?”  
“Not up for it?”  
“Go on, look at him, bloody elf, made for it.”  
“Frightened?”

And I almost feel a pang of guilt, as he has no choice but to agree.

 

Next day – oh next day. 

It is a good day. At least, it would be. If only I hadn’t raised the stakes.

He looks – hot – in a good way – in his wetsuit. Fuck. He is fun. Funny. Nice. They both are. I can see Tau is getting on with – Kili – fine. 

Shit. I wish we only had a dinner bill riding on this.

At first – he is fine. Relaxed. Confident. Laughing.

But – the day goes on. He is starting to worry. I don’t know what to do. The triumph is there alright, I like winning, but – I thought I couldn’t lose. Thought – he would feel, taste, amazing, thought I had skill enough to persuade him to come back for more – and – if I won, thought – thought he would be ok with it. But – I realise, he won’t be.

I am trying. I have never wanted to lose so much.

Fuck, I think, I’ve made my point, he knows its not easy. Please. Just one damn wave. Please.

But – the time on the hire stuff is up.

He knows. 

I know.

We walk up the beach, and I can see our friends – Tau and Kili arranging where to meet, where to go – the others, the others laughing, looking at us. And, oh fuck, I know if it were I who had lost, I would be happy to kneel right here, or, more likely, round the back of the bar, he looks so good, he would taste so good, but – oh fuck. 

“I need to shower,” I say, “you’ll be in the bar, later?”

He shrugs, “Suppose so.”

And walks off.

 

 

Tau is flitting round the apartment, like – some kind of damn butterfly – dressing up, sparkling, singing. She stops when she sees my face.  
“What?” she asks, “you won, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” I say, “I won. And I don’t think he’ll forgive me.”

She laughs,  
“Oh, don’t be silly, Las, Ki,” Ki, I think, Ki? “Ki says he’s been staring all week. Pretending not, but – Ki says its about time he came out to them, and to himself.”

Oh great. Well done, Legolas, he was gay. He – you didn’t have to play games. A date might have been enough. But no. You had to be clever. Waltz into someone’s sexual identity crisis and make a nightmare of it.

Fuck.

Or not.

“Have a good evening, Tau,” I say, and go to change.

 

 

He’s already a few pints down by the time I find him, and its obviously not helping. I walk over, and his mates – I can’t call them friends right now – cheer. He stands, and jerks his head,  
“Come on, fucks sake elf, let’s get this over with,” and he leads the way out of the bar.

Outside, he can’t look at me.  
“Can’t do this here,” he says, gruffly, “your place? I don’t – don’t want any of them,” he nods towards the bar full of his mates, “walking in. Bad enough they all know.”

I bite my lip. I didn’t mean this to happen this way.

He speaks again before I find any words,  
“I – it won’t be good, you realise. I – I’m not gay. Just because I don’t have a girl right now, doesn’t mean –“ he stops, then, “I’m sorry. I – you’re nice enough. I just – I don’t want –“

I clench my fist. No. The ones I want never do.  
“It doesn’t matter,” I say, “forget it. Go on, go back to your mates. I – I didn’t think it through.”

And I walk away.

I can’t do that to him. Oh, I’d like to. I’ve spent half the day – half last night as well – thinking about his lips. His mouth. But – not that way. Not against his desire.

That is not who I am.

I thought – when I made the bet – I thought – he would win. Or – or he would find he wanted to. 

Stupid.

Stupid.

 

 

It is a long evening. I am glad of the wine and the dvd player.

Tau floats in, eventually.

“Good night?” I ask, not looking up.

“Wonderful,” she answers, “I – Las – I – we – he might be the One.”

“Oh. Good.” I manage.

She looks at me, and realises I am not happy. Or sober.  
“What happened?” she asks, and then giggles, “did he bite?”

“Fuck off. No,” I sigh, “he didn’t. He didn’t – anything. I let him off. He didn’t want to, and – what do you think I am?”

“Oh, Las,” she says, and the sympathy in her voice is almost the worst thing about the evening. Almost.

“Go to bed,” I say, “I’m no company.”

She nods, and leaves me, bottle in one hand, remote in the other, porn on the dvd. It was porn or romcom, and I’d rather be sticky than tearful.

“It’ll be light enough to surf at 5,” she says, as she goes, “not too long.”

The door of her room closes behind her, and I press play. As the images start up again, I take the box out of my pocket, and look again at the ring. Ada gave it me, saying perhaps it was time to make it official. I did wonder. 

I was beginning to think – I meant to talk to her this holiday – if neither of us could find the One, maybe – maybe being together all the time would be nice. Company. 

Kids maybe.

One day.

I thought – friends is a good start, surely?

We never argue. She knows me, I know her. It could’ve worked.

Not now. 

I hope he’s good to her. 

I’ll still be here if he isn’t. She’s my friend. Always will be.

Wish I’d lost the bet though. That memory would have helped.

Look at the screen, Legolas, drink the wine.

Ignore the pain.

 

 

At dawn, I make my way to the beach. 

Waves are good.

Have it to myself. 

Bloody fantastic.

And so am I.

Eventually, I decide I need some breakfast. I head in to shore.

He is waiting. Coffee in one hand, bacon roll in the other.

“Been in the cafe,” he says, “wanted to have it hot for you. Thought you might need it.”

I look at him, and raise my brow in silence.

“Sorry,” he says, “I – I did some thinking last night. Could – could we – maybe – no more bets. Just – spend some time?” 

I take the coffee, I drink a mouthful.

“Too hot,” I say, and, carefully, I put it down on the sand. I lay my board down. I unzip my suit, and pull it to my waist, his eyes on me. “Towel?” I ask, and, yes, he has one. I dry my hair a bit, rub the worst of the water off my torso, enjoying his eyes still on me. 

“Legolas?” he asks, not sure what I am thinking.

I take his hand in one of mine, and it feels good.

“Friends?” I ask, thinking – friends is good. Surely.

“Bit more, I was hoping,” he says, “just – I need to – get used to it. Take it slow.”

I smile, and – oh fuck the taking it slow – he pulls me towards him, and – in all the years, all the times I’ve been home with men, all the times I’ve pulled in bars, the kissing hasn’t been like this.

Honestly? Its been better – better technique – but – somehow – this means more. 

Last night – I wondered how Tau knew.

But – now – now I know.

He’s the One.

And by the look on his face as we part to breathe, he knows too.

“Or not slow,” he says, “not slow at all.”

And we stand there, an endless moment, perfect.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [And I Need it So Bad (Surf's Up)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1704035) by [Lisafer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisafer/pseuds/Lisafer)




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